Taken
by Zarra Rous
Summary: Fill for a prompt on LJ Sherlock BBC Kink Meme. Mycroft is horrible about John and Sherlock threatens him. Mycroft refuses to help Sherlock, so they leave Baker Street. When they return years later he tries to make amends. DomIrene/SubJohn/DomSherlock
1. Part 1 and 2

Damn that bitch.

Sherlock was beyond upset, as his bothersome older brother had oh so delicately put it, he was livid. Mycroft had sent him after that Woman and now his blogger was missing. The smiley face on the wall now had a clean hole in between its mocking eyes. Damn him and damn her for taking his John. It was only a phone with some boring pictures. Why did she drug him and then take John? It made no sense. John was no threat to her.

'I doubt the wall knows anything Sherlock.'

Sherlock turned John's Browning away from the wall and pointed it straight at his treacherous brother's unbeating heart. 'If you have nothing to help me get John back then get out or so help me the next bullet I fire will be through you.'

Mycroft's nose wrinkled as he looked down it at his younger brother and the weapon in his hand. 'I cannot help you…'

'Will not.'

He sighed, 'Be that as it may. I cannot help you to recover Doctor Watson.'

Sherlock practically growled at the other man, 'Get out.'

'Now Sherlock…'

His voice turned deadly quiet, 'Get. Out.'

As soon as Mycroft was gone, Sherlock turned the gun back on the smiley face and promptly emptied the clip.

Fine, if he wasn't going to help, then he wouldn't see them again. A deadly smile crossed his lips. The Woman wouldn't know what hit her.

'Mrs. Hudson.'

SH/JW

'Wakey, wakey Doctor.' Irene's voice was a purr as she gently caressed John's cheek with her riding crop. The barely conscious man was tied up and most conveniently chained sitting up against the wall in her new home. She hadn't intended to take him at first, that day that they had met, but the temptation was too great. After all he was ever so concerned for poor darling Sherlock Holmes that she just had to see if she could make a proper sub out of him. Military men made for the most beautifully compliant slaves after all. He would be a gift for the detective. He would be properly broken, so that even the Virgin couldn't mistake his purpose for being returned. She shivered in delight. 'It's time for your first lesson, so that you will be ready for when your Detective comes to fetch you.'

'What?' John's voice was quiet and slurred. He was fighting the drugs that she had dosed him with, with little success. A quick flick of the wrist and his cheek stung from the blow that she had delivered with the crop.

'Silence Doctor.' Irene caressed his cheek with the crop again, delighting in the red mark that was blossoming on his tanned skin. 'You will be addressing me as Mistress from now on. At least until the Detective gets here. Then He will be your Master.' Her tone turned harsh as she grabbed his hair and pulled with fingers that had turned into claws. 'Understand Doctor?'

John blinked up at her, a touch of fear entering his dark eyes, as his scalp was clawed again as she pulled his head farther back.

'Understood?'

He had no choice. He had to play her game if he wanted to get back to Sherlock. 'Yes.'

'Yes, what?'

This time it was a strike by the crop to his groin that brought tears to his eyes as his head was pulled still farther back. 'Yes Mistress,' he gasped out.

Releasing him, she patted his head with a soft smile. 'Good boy Doctor.' Settling herself on a chair directly before him, she placed a bare foot directly in front of his lips. 'Lesson One: Obedience.' Tapping his nose with her big toe, she smirked. 'As we have already established you will call me Mistress, at least until your Dom comes to fetch you. For him, you will call him Master or Detective, unless he tells you that he prefers otherwise. Understood?'

John grimaced as he nodded. 'Yes Mistress.'

'Delightful, you're learning already.' She slapped him on the cheek with the bottom of her foot. 'Next time don't give me that look.' Tapping his nose again she continued. 'You will do as I say until you are retrieved, unless you prefer we do this the hard way. Believe me, the hard way is much more fun for me then you, no matter how little I like harming the subs I am training.' She smirked. 'Punishment for disobeying varies with the situation of course Doctor, sometime it will be as now, a little love tap as it were. Other times I'm afraid I will have to be much harsher and then real pain will be involved. Understood?'

This time John was able to keep his face smooth and bland as he answered. 'Yes, Mistress.' God he hoped that Sherlock came soon. She sounded like she was perfectly serious about breaking him.

SH/JW

AN: This is also posted on LJ under my LJ name lady_blue_rose on the Sherlock BBC Kink Meme. I do hope that you like it.


	2. Part 3

After six months, Sherlock was closing in on _her_. Finally, she wouldn't be able to hide from him anymore. He had nearly had her at her last safe-house. It had only been sheer bad timing that he had missed her. Damn interfering Mycroft. This time if he dared to interfere, good of the country or no, he would find a bullet firmly lodged in his sub-cranium.

His contacts had assured him that she would be out of country for a few days, so this was it. She wouldn't be there to move John. He would have to forgo his revenge for a later date, but he could deal with that, so long as he had his blogger back. John was essential to his functioning effectively. He needed his John.

'Are you sure this time we'll get him Sherlock?'

Sherlock shot Greg Lestrade a look that proclaimed him one of the kingdom's greatest idiots. 'If I were not, then we would not be here, now would we?'

The DI shrugged. He didn't bother replying, since he knew that would only serve to agitate the younger man even further. They were parked down street from a medium sized cottage, in the town of Bath. Sherlock had tracked The Woman from London to Israel and now back to England. This time, he knew, there was no room for failure. Everything had been set into motion. Sherlock and John of Baker Street would disappear and Greg's 'cousin' and his new husband would move into their small country cottage in Sussex. He would be the only one to know the truth of the matter, as he had helped Sherlock acquire all of the necessary documents after all.

A movement from the door of the cottage drew both their attentions. The Woman's assistant was leaving. Perfect. As soon as she had disappeared down the street the two men left the car and headed towards the house. Each had a hand on a pistol, ready for whatever they might find. Nothing on the street moved as they worked their way closer to the door. After they had reached the plain red door, Sherlock quickly picked the lock.

Inside the silence was deafening.

'Back room?'

Sherlock nodded as he drew John's Browning. Keeping it at ready, he slowly moved towards the back of the cottage, calling John's name softly as he did.

The lack of a response worried Greg. Surely she hadn't moved him already.

'John answer me.' Sherlock's voice was louder and more demanding this time, a tinge of panic working its way onto his face.

A soft reply came from the back room, just as they had suspected. Sherlock and Greg shared a brief look before moving as one. Weapons ready they burst into the room and were very startled to find that rather than being a wreck, or being tied up, John was kneeling naked on the floor with his hands on his thighs his head bowed. Both men's jaws dropped.

'John?'

SH/JW

AN: Thank you to all my lovely reviewers and everyone who favorite'd and alerted. I'm feeling well loved today. Keep reading, cause it's only going to get more... interesting. :-)

Disclaimer: (Forgot earlier... oops) Sherlock is not mine, but sometimes I do wish he was...


	3. Part 4

His Dom had come, just as the Mistress had said two days prior. He could barely contain his excitement, but he knew he had to. If he moved without permission he would be punished again. Mistress Irene was most kind when she was happy, but when he disobeyed, she could be very cruel indeed, as the scars on his back could attest to. When the Detective burst into the room it was all he could do to keep his head down, but he couldn't help the grin that spread across his lips. Not caring that there was a second pair of male feet standing just inside his range of vision he bowed his head farther forwards until his forehead nearly touched the floor. The greeting that Mistress Irene had made him practice fell easily from his lips. 'I am grateful that you have come for me Master. Please let me know how I might be of service.'

'John?'

Sherlock's confused voice brought his happiness to a halt. Hadn't he said it right? He was sure that he had. He tensed, waiting for some sort of punishment. 'Have I displeased you Master? Mistress made sure that I was ready for you to fetch me today.'

'God damn it Sherlock, what has she done to him?'

Oh, Lestrade, that would make sense then. He and Sherlock had known each other for years after all. 'Inspector Lestrade, Mistress Irene has trained me to be of service to my dominant, the Detective.' He sat up once more, careful to keep his eyes averted.

'Trained?' Lestrade's voice was disgusted and distressed.

Sherlock took a step back and John watched through his lashes as the other man slid down the wall, the Browning held in a slack grip, shock written across his precious features. Lestrade moved behind him and he heard the rustle of fabric as the man dug around in the closet. A few moments later, a pile of clothing was dropped in front of him.

'Here. You should… you should dress, I think.'

'Master?'

Sherlock started, 'Don't call me that.'

John flinched. 'Of course. What would you like me to call you?'

Sherlock shook his head. 'What you always used to.'

'By your name?' John was happily shocked. Mistress Irene had told him that that was the ultimate sign of approval. 'Thank you.' He looked at the clothes on the floor before him. 'Do you wish me to dress Sherlock?'

'Yes John.'

Moving slowly and keeping his eyes downcast, John picked up the clothing and carefully dressed in the cloths that he had been taken by Mistress Irene in.

'John why aren't you looking at me?'

Tipping his head to the side he carefully considered his answer. Mistress Irene _had_ said that he might have to help Master Sherlock along a bit at first. 'You haven't given me permission to.'

'That's it?' Sherlock's voice was taken aback. 'You have to have permission for that?'

'Yes.'

'Christ Sherlock, I think she broke him. We need to get out of here.'

Sherlock pushed himself up from the floor and grabbed John's chin and forcibly raised it, releasing a displeased growl when his eyes slid shut. 'Look at me John.'

Hazel eyes opened to meet silvery green.

Sherlock's voice was soft. 'Let's go home.'

John smiled. 'As long as I'm with you.'

SH/JW

AN: Thank you to all my lovely readers. Here's another installment of Taken, AKA Damn that bitch. I do hope that you liked it. Please do stick with me, this will not be a short story I promise that. ;-)

Disclaimer: Not mine...


	4. Part 5

The car ride away from Bath was nearly silent, with John being quite content to remain unspeaking in the back seat. Greg was hesitant to bring up the state that they had found him in. He didn't want to offend either John or Sherlock. The latter of which was staring pensively out the window. He supposed at some point he would have to get on the phone to London though, to get the plans that they had set up going. He just needed Sherlock's word.

'Sherlock? When do you want me to send word to the team?'

The other man just sighed and nodded. This reaction worried Greg greatly. It was not the time for Sherlock to get pensive and unresponsive. Looking into the rearview mirror he sighed himself as he looked at the slightly smiling John. God, just looking at him hurt. Greg couldn't believe that the strong-willed former military doctor could be reduced to this, a sex toy trained just for Sherlock.

Spotting the sign for the exit for the M27, he decided to go ahead and send the signal for the team in London to get a move on. He truly doubted that Sherlock's bastard of a brother would anticipate a drugs bust as a cover for clearing out a flat. Lord knows Greg liked to pull drugs busts as a way of getting Sherlock to cooperate and stay clean, but this time would be the last and he was going to miss it. Sometimes friendship was more important than any case after all.

Pulling out his mobile he hit the speed dial for Sally Donovan. Fortunately for his nerves she picked up after only two rings.

'_Donovan.'_

'We've got a go. Package is secured and on route.'

Sally let out delighted laugh._ 'Understood sir. All my best. Operation Drugs Bust is a go. Confirm?'_

With one last quick glance at the pensive consulting detective, he gave her the go. 'Happy hunting Donovan.'

SH/JW

AN: Love to all my reviewers and everyone who has favorited and alerted this story. Thank you all. And a special thanks to NivalKenival for drawing a wonderful pic of John to go with this story... fluffyniamh. deviantart. com /#/d4oqnwh

Disclaimer: Don't own...


	5. Part 6

AN: Ok I'm putting this at the top this time... To those who were wondering, yes this does have a plot :-) and yes :-) there will be plenty of smut to be had... I'm working up to it. Since John has been so wonderfully trained, it would not do for me to keep you all from seeing just what he's got planned in that lovely dirty mind of his. :-) Love to you all and on with the show...

SH/JW

He had never expected this. This was not what was supposed to happen. He hadn't planned for this. John was supposed to have been eagerly anticipating rescue because he was in pain and being tortured, not because he had been turned into a… whatever it was that she had turned him into. It was disturbing and not just because he hadn't anticipated John being like that when they had found him. His own reaction to seeing John like that, naked and anticipating, was probably what was disturbing him the most. He didn't do… It was too messy and emotional. He knew the chemistry and mechanics of course, regardless of the fact that he had never put his knowledge into use. He was not supposed to have a reaction to seeing John naked like that. He was not supposed to become a… a… aroused by anyone. But he supposed if he were to be… attracted to anyone at least it was his blogger. John at least cared for him and had never run from him because of how he was. John was the only one he cared about himself. His blogger was his only friend as he defined them, the only one he trusted that much. But still he would never act on it. At least he had never believed that he would and now…

He considered how they had found John once more, turning the image over in his head again, and once more couldn't help but shiver from the tingle of arousal that slid down his spine.

This was not part of his plans. Not at all. Emotions were too messy and complicated. He wanted nothing to do with them.

He would have to find some way of fixing John he supposed. They would be alone together at the country house in Sussex for a very long time after all. It wouldn't do for him to develop feelings for his friend, especially not while they were in hiding and he was trying to help John to recover from his ordeal at the Woman's hands. As it stood, they weren't John and Sherlock any more either. Their names were going to be different now. Holmes and Watson would disappear in a rather permanent way today. However, John would always be John to him.

He cleared his throat as he pulled his mind back to the here and now and brought his attention where John had been sitting quietly in the back of the car for the last hour and a half.

'Are you alright Sherlock?'

He looked at Lestrade and nodded slightly, relieved that the other man only gave him a tight smile in return. He had likely sent word to their team in London by now. Mycroft would not be amused, but there was nothing he would be able to do. Lestrade had even been cautious enough to have them leave their regular mobiles in Baker Street and use temporary prepay mobiles. 'Thank you.'

Lestrade shook his head, 'No thanks needed Sherlock,' he paused, a rueful smile on his lips. 'Sorry, Heddwyn.'

'Heddwyn?'

John's voice was quiet, but Sherlock was just glad that he had actually said something. Looking back at John he answered his blogger's inquiry. 'We are not going back to London.'

John nodded, 'I noticed. So where are we going then, Portsmouth? Brighton?'

'Worthing, actually.' Sherlock pulled a manila envelope out from under his seat and handed it back. He waited until John had their new ID's in his hands before he continued. 'We are disappearing. My name is now Heddwyn Lestrade and you are to be my husband, Iain MacDougal-Lestrade. We have only been married for three months and are just purchasing our first home together.'

'A farm?'

Sherlock nodded. A farm stead had been his idea. Mycroft would never suspect him of wanting to stay somewhere as quiet as a country farm. He would still help Les… that is Greg, when he could over the computer, but he was essentially retiring for John's sake.

'So you are Greg's cousin and I'm Scottish?' His eyes were fixed to the papers he held, fixed on the civil union license with his forged signature on it. 'How did you manage this Sherlock?'

Lestrade cleared his throat, 'I did.'

'You?'

'Yes.' He met Sherlock's eyes, and the detective could see the unease that lingered in the Inspectors mind. He too was worried over what the Woman had done to John. 'Sherlock would have been too noticeable, me not so much. I took your place for the proceedings after Sherlock had taught me how to forge your signature well enough to fool the government.'

Laughing softly he caught the laughter in John's eyes. 'No one thinks twice of Lestrade dragging me in on an ASBO.'

'You should have heard the lecture he got from his brother for that one.' Lestrade let out a humorless laugh of his own. 'Damn bastard.'

'So a farm in the country then?' John nodded, 'Alright. Good… that's fine.'

He sucked in a worried breath and studied the slightly smiling face of his partner. There was no indication that John would fight him on this. His face was filled with determination and understanding. This was good. They could work with this. John seemed almost normal now that he was in the car and away from _her_. 'All fine?'

'It's all fine.'

SH/JW


	6. Part 7

'Greg, we'll need to stop soon.' Sherlock broke the quiet about half an hour later, startling John out of the light doze he had fallen into after reading the information on their new lives.

'Hair?'

'Yes, it's time to get the dye out before it sets any further.'

Dye? Sherlock had dyed his hair… 'You dyed it?' he blurted out before he could lose his nerve. He didn't figure that Sherlock would punish him for it. He never had minded when John had asked questions in the past. The worst reprimand he figured that he'd get for speaking out of turn at this point was a scathing remark on his intelligence, or a glare, rather than the crop that he'd get from Mistress Irene. It was now when Sherlock turned his head to look back at him that he noticed the tell-tell dye marks behind the other man's right ear, and the hint of ginger that hadn't quite been covered up by the dye at the back of his neck.

'Had to throw Mycroft off somehow.' Silver-green eyes met his own, a smirk shining in them. 'Heddwyn Lestrade is ginger.'

Greg nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving the road before them. 'Never realized it until Molly helped lighten it, that Sherlock is actually ginger.'

The young man turned his eyes from John to glare at the Inspector. 'Don't you dare tell anyone either.' He turned back, a hint of pink staining his cheeks. 'Mycroft never realized it either. Thank God, or this would never work.' He ran an agitated hand through his hair. 'Now we need to get the black out before we reach the inn that we are going to stay at tonight, especially before we move into our new residence tomorrow.'

John nodded as he accepted his Dom's words. It made sense that there would be something about him that would be altered to disguise them. He supposed the easiest for himself would be glasses, if Sherlock was lightening his hair. He mentioned this and received a smile from the Detective and was pleased that he had done something right for him. 'I can help you get the dye out as well if you need me to.'

'It would be appreciated. Greg is hopeless with that sort of thing.'

'Can't blame me, I've never dyed anyone's hair before. Damn good thing we decided to do it at the mortuary. Molly really helped with that.'

John was astounded, timid little Molly had helped. He looked out the window, breaking his eye contact with Sherlock. He felt guilty that he hadn't been there to help his Master. It was his job to do so. It was what Mistress Irene had spent the last six months training him for.

'You do know that she has developed a bit of a tendré for you Greg.'

'She does not have a crush on me Heddwyn. She's had a crush on Sherlock Holmes for years.'

'She has feelings for you now that I'm unavailable. Give her a nudge and get rid of that cheater that you call a wife and she'd be yours. She'd be much better for you honestly.'

Molly had feelings for Lestrade? John nearly laughed with joy at this. It meant that she wasn't after his Dom any more. Good. More for him.

SH/JW

AN: Getting close to what everyone wants... :-p

This chapter is dedicated to NivalKenival! Lots of love to everyone who has reviewed and story alerted and favorited. Cookies all around.

AN2: Iain MacDougal-Lestrade is now on Facebook!

Disclaimer: Even though I wish it, Sherlock is not mine...


	7. Part 8

AN1: I was going to post this in a few days, but since it is Valentine's day, here is a taste of smut for you, all my lovely readers. Happy Valentine's Day!

SH/JW

The petrol station that they stopped at was a bit dingy and on the run down side, but the bored looking attendant was not likely to notice as much if he and John were to spend an inordinate amount of time in the lav attending to his hair. Greg had gotten the key for them and the two of them were now working on shampooing his hair over a tiny sink.

'Don't worry so much Heddwyn, Mistress taught me how to do this.'

A streak of anger flooded his veins. How dare she?

'She liked having her hair washed for her.'

He caught John's smile from the corner of his eye and couldn't help the fissure of jealousy that tightened his stomach. Taking a deep breath he tried desperately to keep his voice steady as he replied. 'Is that so?'

'Yes. She said that it was something I should know, since you have such wonderful hair yourself and would appreciate it if I knew how to attend to it correctly.'

He hummed deep in his throat and couldn't deny to himself that he was indeed enjoying the feel of John's fingers massaging his scalp as he worked the dye out. His eyes slid shut as John's fingers hit the knots that had taken up residence at the base of his skull and started to work them out.

'My poor Detective. You have been lost without me haven't you?' John cooed. 'Don't worry I'm here now.' His voice dropped nearly half an octave as he practically purred, 'I'm going to take very good care of you my own.'

Sherlock could not help the shiver that shook his frame as his fingers tightened their grip on the edge of the sink. His knees felt like they were made of water. No this wasn't… he shouldn't… but oh God, John was blowing in his ear and those fingers on his neck.

'Soon my own I'll show you just what I know. You will love it.'

Warm hands were replaced with warm water as John rinsed out the shampoo and questing fingers roamed his head as the suds were worked out and the black was replaced with ginger. Soon, as the water dripped down the sides of his face, the fingers wandered off of his head and down his spine. They stopped at the waistband of his trousers and lingered there for a moment before one hand returned to his head and the other slipped around to his stomach and pressed him back into John's warmth. God, he could feel… oh God he was hard.

Sherlock started to pant, his breathing no longer steady as John's left hand slid around so that it was caressing his throat and his right one…

'Not so indifferent. I love that even with me barely touching you, you are this hard for me Sherlock.'

John was surely not going to, was he?

Apparently so. With barely a sound and John only giving him a few soft tugs through his trousers, Sherlock lost control for the first time in his life and shattered right there. He would have fallen had not John's arm been wrapped around his middle and he had a white knuckled grip on the sinks rim.

'So responsive.'

John's hand on his neck was replaced with a soft towel as his arm tightened around Sherlock's midsection.

'Don't worry, I'll clean that up too.'

'Hmm, what?'

Rather than respond verbally John caressed him again, sending shivers through the thoroughly sated Detective. Turning him John pressed him back into the sink and knelt before him, his hands falling to Sherlock's belt buckle. 'Look at me Sherlock.'

Sherlock took a shuddering breath as he opened his eyes to look down on the kneeling man. All he could do was watch as his blogger undid his trousers and slid them and his undergarments down. Silvery-green met hazel and nearly closed again as John's tongue slid out and… Oh.

It was at least another fifteen minutes before they made it out of the lav, his hair only partly dry and his knees feeling like they would never hold weight properly again. Fortunately Greg either didn't notice the flush on his face, or choose to ignore it. He was grateful none the less.

'So ready to go?'

John just grinned as he slid into the car, seeming to be completely unaffected by the fact that he had just fellated Sherlock in a petrol station lavatory.

SH/JW

AN2: Oh god this one got away from me. Bad, naughty John... I was blushing the whole time too. But oh dear, it was so satisfying to write. And now dear, poor, darling Sherlock is all flustered. Just hold on to something, because John has more naughty plans in mind and Sherlock is going to learn that there is no fixing what likes to be broke. Love and Chocolates to all!


	8. Part 9

John Henry's Inn was not the largest establishment in the world, but it was certainly a decently well kept and friendly one. The girl sitting behind the desk couldn't have been more then nineteen, but she had the biggest smile on her face as the three of them checked in for the night.

Greg barely even noticed as she handed them their keys for the night and chatted with John. He was worried about Sherlock. The poor man looked shell-shocked. As best he could figure, John had done something to the consulting detective while they were at the station getting Sherlock's hair washed out and the car's tank filled. He had the smuggest grin on his face too, which gave it away. He knew that he wasn't on the same level as Sherlock, but even he could tell when someone had been doing something of a sexual nature in his vicinity. All he could do was sigh and shake his head over the whole thing. Sherlock was going to have his hands full, if the sideways glances John were giving him were any indication.

'Sher… Heddwyn? Dinner?'

Sherlock looked at him startled from his thoughts. He nodded and Greg sighed again. His friends pale green eyes were blank and filled with trepidation as they fell on their smiling companion.

'Sounds wonderful Greg. Heddwyn? Are we going to go too?'

'Yes.' Sherlock's voice was tiny and drew a concerned look to the recently freed doctor's face. Frankly Greg was concerned too. He had never seen his friend like this. He placed a gentle hand on the other man's arm and caught his eye.

'Would you rather stay and rest? I can take Iain into the pub and we can let you stay in if you're not feeling well.'

John nodded his agreement. 'If you're not feeling well, I can go with Greg and bring you something back.'

Sherlock nodded slightly. 'That might be best.'

'All right then, we'll see you later.'

SH/JW

AN: Ok this one is a little short, but I'll be posting the next part very soon, maybe even tomorrow... Love to all my readers.

Disclaimer: Not mine. ;.;


	9. Part 10

Sherlock was grateful that Greg had suggested that he spend a few hours to himself. He was uncertain how to proceed with John. He had never expected for what had happened earlier to happen. He paced the floor of the small room that he and John would be sharing and ran agitated fingers through his hair until he caught a few strands under one of his nails and had pulled his own hair out painfully.

'God damn it.'

He dug the heels of his hands into his eyes and tried to rub the agitation out of his mind. Cursing again he took a step backwards and let himself fall back onto the bed, his arms falling straight out to his sides as he stared up at the plain white ceiling.

'John what have you done to me.'

All he had wanted was his blogger back from that woman. It was supposed to have been a simple case, get in and get the phone and then get back out again. Damn Mycroft hadn't mentioned that that woman had liked to use recreational aids of the medicinal variety. He should have realized, but then again what did he know of such things really. All of the information he had on it was academic. He knew all about the chemistry of it, it was a large part of the motivation for crime after all, but he had never before had to deal with it personally. Sentiment was dangerous. Mycroft had battered that into his head often enough when they were growing up. He didn't know how to deal with this. He hadn't ever…

He rolled to his left side and tucked his right hand up under his chin and pulled his knees up so that his feet weren't hanging off the bed anymore. He didn't know what to do with this new John. 'Why did she have to spoil things?'

He was so tired of it all. He had barely slept the past six months as it was. What had happened earlier had just made him more tired and his eyes just didn't want to stay open any more regardless of what was going through his head.

He was deeply asleep two hours later when John returned and entered their room. He wasn't aware of the small smile that graced the other mans features as he nudged Sherlock farther up on the bed so that his head was actually on the pillow. Nor was he aware of the other man pulling off his shoes and covering him with a blanket.

So how was he to be aware that his partner had done as he had done every night since he had accepted the training that Irene Adler offered and disrobed to his bare skin? Sherlock also didn't see him as he just smiled and knelt next to the bed to watch over _his_ Dom's dreams until dawn.

SH/JW

AN: Love to all my readers. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far and to everyone who has story alerted and favorited. Cookies for all.


	10. Part 11

AN: Okay as promised a nice long chapter. Thank you to all my lovely readers, you are my inspiration... alright, you and Sherlock. Because lets face it, without him this story would not be possible.

SH/JW

The next afternoon saw the three men on the road once again. This time their destination was not nearly so far as it had been the day before, and John was eagerly anticipating their arrival. They were on their way to the farm that he and Sherlock were going to live at from now on. He had been shown estate agent photos at breakfast when the nice young man who was their agent had joined them for the final signatures on his paperwork.

'Iain,' Sherlock's soft voice brought him out of his ruminations and back to the present.

'Yes?'

He motioned up the road ahead of them. 'There it is.'

It was lovely. A charming looking two story brick and stone farm house with ivy creeping up the garden wall and a matching horse shed standing behind it. He felt his breath leave his lungs in a gush. 'Oh my. That is fantastic.'

He was the first out of the car as it stopped, practically running to the front door. 'This is ours?' he called back over his shoulder to Sherlock and Greg.

Greg laughed behind him and replied, 'Key's under the mat Iain, if you wanted to go ahead.'

'Heddwyn?'

With only a slight hesitation his Dom answered him. 'Go on.'

'I will thank you.' With a wide grin, he knelt and lifted the mat. Sure enough there was a shiny silver key laying there. Scooping it up, he let the mat fall back into its place. Fitting the key to the lock he hurried to unlock the door.

Beyond was a good sized sitting room filled with comfortable looking furniture, and if he were not mistaken their sofa and his own chair from 221B, as well as Sherlock's. The chairs were in their customary places before the rather large fireplace. He smiled at this. Home had come to them it had seemed. Moving past this all he headed right, into the open hallway. Just to the left were the stairs to the first floor and to his right the open door to a study, already filled with their desks and books. Two more doors on the left were probably a loo and a closet he figured. The hallway opened into a dining room and beyond that the kitchen.

Turning back he smirked. Time to see where they'd be sleeping, a house like this had to have at least two or three bedrooms and perhaps even one or two attic rooms.

To his pleasure he found that the first floor hid not only three small bedrooms, but a fourth. The fourth would be the largest, so he figured that that would be his and Sherlock's room then. He couldn't help but grin as he heard the others walking around talking downstairs. Oh and wouldn't his Dom be pleased to find him ready tonight in their bedroom. He sighed happily as he opened to door and saw the large bed covered in crisp white sheets that had definitely come from Sherlock's room at Baker Street. Perfect.

'Iain?'

John hurried back to the stairs and scrambled down them. 'Yes Sher… Heddwyn?' He had nearly called him Sherlock again. He would have to find a punishment for that later. He was doubtful that his Master would be quite ready for that sort of thing just yet. Best to start him slow, especially given his reaction to what had happened at the petrol station. But regardless of the slip up, Sherlock was smiling softly at him, and his heart warmed. Perhaps only a very mild punishment then, he was always up for that. Kneeling with a blindfold on all night perhaps, or banishment to another room for the night? He very much doubted that Sherlock had any toys for him to use at this point, so many things were out until he could order a few for his Dom. He needed to see what the other man would be up for first after all.

'How do you like the house?'

He smiled brightly, trying to relieve the vaguely worried look that was on Sherlock's face. 'It's perfect.' He looked over at Greg. 'Will you be staying here tonight, or do you need to get back to London?'

'I'm staying for a few more days.' He shrugged, 'I'm officially on Holiday, so it would look strange if I came back today.' With a sigh he fell back to sit on the sofa. 'Sally will be bringing your new laptops with her day after tomorrow, after she gets off shift. She'll take me back with her.'

His brows drew together in confusion. 'What about the car?'

'Yours.' He tossed the keys to Sherlock. 'Consider it a wedding present from the rest of the Lestrade family. To warn you, Mum's already planning on coming down for a summer visit, along with Aunt Alice. Can't let Great-Uncle Clive's only son alone, even if he's a newlywed.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes at this, sitting heavily next to Greg. 'Why did I let you talk me into joining your family Greg?'

Greg laughed, seemingly at the thought that he could ever talk Sherlock into anything. 'Because in order for you to become Heddwyn all we had to do was delete a death certificate and forge a few education records. Good thing for us he was so close to your age and died so young of illness, or this would never have worked.'

'Illness?'

Greg met John's eyes, a somewhat sorrowful tinge in his otherwise happy eyes. 'Complications from pneumonia at age ten. Early enough that he didn't have many friends, but old enough that family members vaguely recall him if asked. Great-Uncle Clive died about ten years ago, so he's not around to dispute any of it.'

'Ah. Heddwyn, would you like me to get you anything? Greg?' When both men shook their heads in the negative, he knelt by Sherlock's feet, resting comfortably on his heels.

'John?'

He looked up at his own and smiled again. 'Yes?'

Sherlock opened his mouth as if to speak, before quickly closing it with a shake of his head. The poor man had no idea of what to make of this, did he? He would be fun to train into a proper Dom. He was already forceful enough outside the bedroom, now John knew that he'd have to train him into bringing that out in a not so platonic way in the bedroom. It was time to teach him that sex could be fun, especially when there was domination involved, and the occasional riding crop.

SH/JW

AN2: Question for you all, please PM or Review with your vote, or vote on Iain MacDougal-Lestrade's Facebook page...

While in hiding should Sherlock become a professional violinist, bee keeper, or voice actor?

Please let me know your opinion's on the matter, because I would love to see what all of you think.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me my lovely boys were created by another and I do not own them. I'm just playing with them for a bit, so please BBC no suing, because all you'll get is my crazy cats.

Love and cookies for all.


	11. Part 12

AN: Please keep those lovely reviews coming the poll is currently sitting at

Violinist 6  
>Voice Actor 5<br>Bee Keeper 4

Remember you can vote for Heddwyn Lestrade (AKA Sherlock)'s profession by reviewing, PMing, or voting on the poll on Iain MacDougal-Lestrade's Facebook page, which also has hints and a few spoilers for upcoming chapters.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock, even though I very often wish I did.

SH/JW

'Sherlock, are you sure you're okay?' Greg asked in a hushed tone as they sat on the sofa waiting for John to call them back into the dining room for dinner.

Sherlock wasn't sure how to answer his friend. He wasn't okay, not really. When John had knelt at his feet earlier in the afternoon, he hadn't been sure how to react. Especially since John had looked so pleased to be in the position that he was in. He doubted that it was healthy to let him continue to do that, but wasn't sure how to get him to stop so that he wouldn't do it again.

'You're not are you?' The other man sighed and placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. 'It'll be all right. It's just going to take awhile is all. Just make sure that you are clear with him what you expect. Make sure you let him know that what happened yesterday made you uncomfortable. Alright?'

He nodded. He was glad that Greg was staying a few days. Somehow it seemed that it would be better with him staying. His thoughts were in chaos and he needed time in his mind palace so that he could organize it all, but he was so shaken by yesterday, that he didn't know if he could get himself relaxed enough. 'I need to think.'

'Want me to leave you alone then?'

He looked up startled. He hadn't meant for Greg to take it that way. He needed a sounding board and since his skull was in storage along with a great many of his things from Baker Street, he needed Greg to fill in as he had been for the last six months. He couldn't go to John like he would have before. Especially since the things he needed perspective on were the man himself. 'No.' He leaned forwards and placed his elbows on his knees. Resting his chin on his clasped hands he let out a huff. 'I need to know what you have figured out about yesterday.'

Greg nodded as he mirrored Sherlock, leaning towards the younger detective. 'Not much to be honest. I don't know the details, how can I, but I do know that when you were in the loo at the station getting your hair washed, John did something, most likely of a sexual nature that caused you to go into shock. You were fairly strongly affected. If you hadn't been, you wouldn't have gone to bed early. I know enough about you Sherlock to know that you don't do that, not without good reason.'

He was right of course and somehow this didn't surprise Sherlock. Greg was actually a good detective, otherwise he never would have gotten as far with his work as he had. Turns out that he was also a better friend than Sherlock had ever expected as well.

'John was also rather pleased with himself. Almost smug I'd say.'

'He was rather was, wasn't he?'

'Seemed that way. What are you going to do about tonight? He may try something since we're somewhere private.'

Sherlock considered this. He really had no idea what John was going to do tonight. His friend was the same, but so different now. He never would have done _that_, before. Fortunately for his own peace of mind, John had been sleeping on the floor with the spare blanket and pillow when he woke up that morning. It couldn't have been comfortable on the former soldier's shoulder. He would have to make sure that John knew that he was to sleep in a bed tonight, preferably his own. 'I honestly don't know. Order him to stay in his own room perhaps.'

Greg nodded with his eyes downcast, a frown upon his lips. 'An order may be all he'll listen to at this point. I think,' he raised his eyes to meet Sherlock's, 'that she trained him to be a Submissive.'

'Mycroft said that she was a Dominatrix.'

'That would make sense then.' The older man pointed towards the hallway. 'I've seen what happens when a Dominant goes bad and I've seen what happens when a Submissive has broken. It's not pretty.'

'Never thought it would be.' He dropped his own eyes to the floor, unable to hold his friends gaze any longer. This was not a subject that he particularly wanted to go into, but he listened anyways. If it concerned fixing John then he would do anything, no matter how uncomfortable. 'So tell me what you know then.'

Greg sat back with a sigh. 'Okay, admittedly I don't know a lot, but I will tell you what I do know.' At Sherlock's nod he continued. 'The Dominant or Dom, is obviously the more dominant partner in a pairing. Same thing, other way for the Submissive. Now don't let that fool you. It's about release more than anything. A Sub could be anyone, even someone who outside their home is a powerful person. Same thing with a Dom. Life outside the home means nothing.'

'So it's just about sexual dominance then?'

'Sort of. A good Dom isn't just the dominant partner, they are the provider. They are the one who makes sure that their Sub is well taken care of. That nothing bad happens to them. The Sub is released from that responsibility. But again their part in return is to take care of their Dom's needs, whatever those are. They will even have set rules and punishments for breaking the rules.'

Sherlock sat back, relaxing his spine against the back of the sofa. So he would have to set rules for John then. 'Huh.'

'Like I said before, make sure you tell him what you expect, or he will do something he thinks is right, but you aren't ready for.'

Both men tensed as they heard John's footsteps in the hall. John was smiling as he came into the room, his step bouncy, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the room. 'Dinner?'

SH/JW

AN2: And just because I love all of you so much, here's some more cookies for you... ^..^~


	12. Part 13

AN: Poll update: Thank you to everyone who voted for Sherlock's 'retirement' profession, as it were. The results were very very close, but I did get a very interesting result. Stay tuned for upcoming chapters in order to see what was decided.

And thank you to everyone who reviewed just to review, and of course everyone who story alerted and favorited. I love you all.

Disclaimer: no matter how much I wish and dream SH and friends are still not mine...

SH/JW

'What do you mean gone.'

Sally looked up from the paperwork that the posh gentleman standing before her had interrupted her from working on. 'Gone. Not there. Departed. Possibly missing. Run away. Bolted. Bailed. Fled.' She was quite to let a little touch of glee enter her voice as she ran through her list of thesaurus words. If this was the man who was the reason that Sherlock was leaving London with John Watson, then he deserved whatever he got and whatever she was capable of dealing him. There was a reason that she was their secret keeper, to borrow a phrase from Harry Potter, after all. Just because she didn't like the Freak, didn't mean that she didn't respect what he could do, or Doctor Watson. John's a good man, as far as she is concerned and if Sherlock can take care of him and fix him up after his being kidnapped for six months, then she supposes that there must be something good in Sherlock after all. John was too good for the Freak, but then maybe he saw some redeeming quality in the Freak that she hadn't. 'To be perfectly honest, I just think he's absconded.' She nearly laughed and had to bite her lip to stop it when Mycroft Holmes looked at her in horror at the idea of his little brother running away from anything.

'Absconded?'

For a supposed genius, he sure was thick, she thought with an internal grin. 'Yeah, DI Lestrade was getting ready to pull him in on another ASBO when he got back from his holiday. Not gonna happen now of course, with him being gone and all. Plus I've heard that the magistrate was threatening Sherlock with a treatment centre if he gets another one.'

The nose of the green eyed man standing before her crinkled as his eyebrows drew together. 'Treatment centre?'

'Drug treatment.' She had to fight off another laugh as his face drained of colour as he sat heavily in the chair next to her desk. 'But don't worry. I'm sure he's fine.' And amazingly she actually meant that, but of course if he worried, so much the better. The man deserved whatever they dished out to him, for not helping to find John Watson.

With a quiet voice he asked, 'How could this have happened?'

'Usual way I suppose. He got bored. Happens to all the smart ones.' She leaned forward over her desk and whispered as if imparting a great secret. 'Personally I'm happy he's getting busted for drugs and not murder. It's better for everyone if he's bored and getting hauled in for that than the alternative. I wouldn't want to have to pull him in for leaving us a body, rather than figuring out how the body got to be a body.'

'I see.'

Sally almost crowed in delight when the elder Holmes brother stood on shaky legs and absently nodded in her direction, before he half-stumbled away. After she was sure that he was gone, she picked up her mobile from her desk and dialed Lestrade's temporary number. After it picked up she spoke the needed code. 'The money problem has been taken care of and pick up is going ahead as scheduled.' She paused to listen to her superior officer's reply, before laughing. 'I'll tell more when I see you. It was priceless.' She nearly laughed again at his disbelieving snort. 'Talk to you later then.'

She smirked as she hung up and put the phone back down. She was looking forward to watching the elder Holmes dance to her tune.

SH/JW

AN2: I hope you all enjoyed this little taste of Mycroft's reaction. And just because I'm feeling happy and generous tonight I'm giving all of you a little preview of the next two chapters.

Part 14:

'... So to start off with the first rule is always obedience. ...'

'So if I were to tell you that you are to sleep in your assigned room, you would have to?'  
>John nodded. 'Yes. However that leads into one of the other rules that I am currently trained to follow, readiness. I am to always be at hand so that if you need me I am available.'<br>'What does that mean, exactly?' John could tell he was absorbing it all, as his fingers were now steepled under his chin, his book forgotten on his lap.  
>'I am to stay within easy reach at all times. ...'<p>

Sherlock leaned forward and dropped his eyes to the floor. 'So if I were to ask you to kneel at my feet for the rest of the night…'  
>He nodded as he set his book aside and did just that, 'I would obey. If I did not I would expect you to punish me for disobedience.'<p>

Part 15:

He supposed that maybe, just maybe, John might be right and Mycroft wrong. Maybe sometimes caring was okay. It was what had driven him to search so hard for John over the last six months. It was what had driven him to accept help from Greg the day after the kidnapping while he was still fighting off the effects of the sedative that Irene Adler had dosed him with.

Adler had come to him as he had lain there in his bed and had spoken to him, words that even now he had trouble remembering clearly. But aside from a few words, it was mostly just the impression of her visit that remained. But, she hadn't returned the most important thing… John.  
><em>'Hush now. Don't worry. I'll take good care of him. It's okay. I'm only returning your coat.'<em>

SH/JW


	13. Part 14

AN: Thank you to all my lovely readers and reviewers, you all make this project worthwhile. Cookies for all.

Disclaimer: No matter how much I want them, the boys are still not mine. So, I'm just going to borrow them for a bit to play with... ;-)

SH/JW

Greg went off to bed not long after dinner pleading exhaustion from the long investigation and rescue operation. Sherlock and John had not long after settled themselves with books into their customary chairs before the hearth. John could tell that Sherlock was pleased with the arrangement. He was as well, as it brought back many pleasant memories of their old home at Baker Street. Even though he had missed those times dearly when he was with Mistress Irene, he doubted that he would ever regret what he had learned at her hands.

It hadn't been just the sex training really. It had been really about the internal emotions that he was happy to have learned about. He had always known that he was attracted to the brash detective, but he had always somehow felt that it was wrong for him to feel as deeply for the man as he did, does really. Mistress Irene had explained to him that that feeling of wrongness was not his own, but really came from how he had seen his sister treated after her coming out, and about all the wrong-headedness that came from being a military man. She had calmly explained to him one night about a month into training, as he was learning how to kneel properly so that his feet didn't fall asleep, that it wasn't about a person's gender, it was about what was inside of them that mattered. Her words had really struck a chord within him. He had spent a long time afterwards thinking about it. After a few days he had come to realize that she was right. It wasn't that he was gay, because he wasn't, not really, it was because Sherlock is Sherlock. He would be attracted to and love him regardless, so long as he was always Sherlock at heart. He cherished the smile that Mistress Irene gave him when he had told her that. He stopped trying to get away from her after that and she had given him more freedom as a result. It was much easier learning what she was teaching once he stopped fighting, especially once she had explained why she was doing it. She was giving him to Sherlock, free of the inhibitions that she had seen him fighting with. He was grateful to her for that.

'John?'

He looked up from his book, a rather rousing science fiction novel about a prince and his friends rescuing the keeper of a huge galactic library. 'Yes Sherlock?'

Sherlock looked uncomfortable as he closed his own book, something on the study of bees he thought. 'We need to talk about rules.' He cleared his throat and fussed with the book on his lap. 'Greg mentioned that you might be more comfortable if we… laid out… rules.'

'Okay.' John wasn't entirely sure where Sherlock was going with this, though obviously he had discussed a few things with Greg. But, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised, Mistress Irene had mentioned that Sherlock might have a few rules of his own for him to follow. 'Do you want me to tell you the one's that I am already familiar with, so that you can change the aspects you don't like and so we can work out a few that would be mutually beneficial to both of us?' The younger man's mouth opened and closed a few times. Sherlock really had no idea did he, the poor thing. John really did have his work laid out for him didn't he.

'That would be fine.'

He sat back and got settled again. 'Alright. So to start off with the first rule is always obedience. While I was with Mistress Irene, I was obedient to her, but that was only for my training. Now that I am back with you I am obedient only to you, unless you say otherwise. Part of that rule also covers disobedience. In cases where obeying is against my health or yours, or puts one or the other of us in danger, I am allowed to disobey with no repercussions. Other disobedience comes with penalties. These of course depend on the circumstances. For example, my calling you Sherlock in company, as I did earlier, when I was supposed to call you Heddwyn, could result in a night kneeling blind-folded, or banishment to sleep in a separate room. Something more severe would result in a harsher punishment, but of course nothing that causes permanent damage or disfigurement. Do you understand so far?'

'So if I were to tell you that you are to sleep in your assigned room, you would have to?'

John nodded. 'Yes. However that leads into one of the other rules that I am currently trained to follow, readiness. I am to always be at hand so that if you need me I am available.'

'What does that mean, exactly?' John could tell he was absorbing it all, as his fingers were now steepled under his chin, his book forgotten on his lap.

'I am to stay within easy reach at all times. I can be in the next room, or sleep at the foot of your bed if you so desire, or kneel next to the bed all night while you sleep… During the day obviously if I'm not with you I will be able to be reached by text and I doubt that you would object to me going to the market on my own. I did frequently for Mistress Irene in the last few months when Kate was unavailable to go.'

'She trusted you to?'

He smiled brightly, 'Oh yes. After the first couple of months I was allowed to go out with Kate. It was only in the last month or so that I was allowed to go by myself.'

'I see.' His silvery green eyes were narrowed. 'Continue.'

'Well those are the two main ones. I am to care for you, obviously, that's a given. Everything else is changeable according to your desires.'

Sherlock leaned forward and dropped his eyes to the floor. 'So if I were to ask you to kneel at my feet for the rest of the night…'

He nodded as he set his book aside and did just that, 'I would obey. If I did not I would expect you to punish me for disobedience.'

'Explain. I saw the scars.'

He smiled up at Sherlock, catching the detective's eyes again. 'I know you did. I'm not ashamed of them. I earned every one of them.' He brought a hand to the hem of his jumper. 'May I show you?'

Sherlock nodded.

After his jumper and t-shirt were off he turned to show his Dom the crisscross of scars on his back. He was pleased to feel a hesitant hand reach out and touch the back of his left shoulder. 'Tell me?'

Sherlock's voice was low and quiet as he started to recite the history that he could read on John's back.

'Left shoulder, sniper wound from Afghanistan, part of the reason you were invalided. Various shrapnel wounds, also from Afghanistan, most likely obtained in the same attack as the scarring on your shoulder. Crescent shaped scar from adolescence, knife fight, probably in defense of your sister.'

John shuddered in pleasure as Sherlock's cool fingertips traced each of the scars he spoke of.

'Newer ones are from after we met and you were taken by that woman. Nearly all of these are from a riding crop, finger nails, or a whip, right-handed use, probably or rather definitely, administered by Irene Adler. I highly doubt she would allow her assistant to do the punishments after all.'

'You're right she wouldn't.' He turned and faced Sherlock. The other man's finger's never leaving his skin. 'She only had to punish me that much a few times. I understand Sherlock why she did it. She never liked punishing me that badly. Not good for either of us, but I learned. She only wanted me to get past my fear.'

'Fear?'

John sighed and smiled sadly. He could hear that same fear in Sherlock's voice and read it in his eyes. His own was scared of his heart. He would fix that too. 'Caring is not a disadvantage Sherlock.' He carefully laid a hand on the other man's knee and was pleased when he did not flinch away from it. 'In the right circumstances it can save lives.'

Sherlock's eyes fell closed as he leaned back slightly. John could tell that he had pushed the issue almost too far and was to the point of nearly overwhelming the younger man. Pulling away he stood and waited for Sherlock to meet his eyes. He could tell it was the right thing when his Dom glanced away after only a second. 'I'll go to bed with your permission. Where would you like me to sleep tonight?'

It was several minutes later before Sherlock nodded and answered softly. 'Your room.'

'Thank you.' He bowed slightly and picked up his jumper and shirt. 'Goodnight Sherlock.'

His last glimpse that night of the other man was of him staring blankly at the hand that he had been touching John with.

SH/JW

AN2: And remember reviews feed the author...


	14. Part 15

AN: Sorry for the delay RL got in the way, I do dislike allergies and head colds. Love for all of you who have read, reviewed, favorited, and story alerted.

Disclaimer: Still don't own...

SH/JW

He had touched John. He couldn't help it either. He stared down at his hand, it still didn't feel like it was real. He had only meant to talk to John and set out clear ground rules, but it seems that the other man had been ready for that and already had rules ready for him. Why couldn't this be easy? He sank back into his chair and let his hands rest on the chair's arms, his eyes raised to the ceiling. He had been ready for arguments and stubbornness, not a smiling acceptance of rules that John already knew, but that he himself did not. He was so far out of his depth that he didn't know where to go from here. Maybe he should just accept it.

But…

Mycroft had always said that caring was not an advantage. He had always told him that it didn't do to get attached to people, because all they would do was break your heart. That sentiment was a defect found in the losing side.

But…

John was always there to tell him when things were a 'bit not good' or when he should care. For John caring was never about an advantage, he just did. Even before Irene Adler, John had taken care of him for no other reason but that he cared.

Maybe…

He supposed that maybe, just maybe, John might be right and Mycroft wrong. Maybe sometimes caring was okay. It was what had driven him to search so hard for John over the last six months. It was what had driven him to accept help from Greg the day after the kidnapping while he was still fighting off the effects of the sedative that Irene Adler had dosed him with.

Oh yes that day…

He had lost focus for a moment secure in his victory, but it was just long enough for that woman to jab a sedative filled needle into his arm. He had lost more than just her phone in that moment of distraction, he had lost John too. He had lain there helpless with John kneeling over him. As he was fighting for consciousness, he had seen her coming up behind his friend with one of the CIA operatives guns in her hand. All he could do was try to say John's name, but it hadn't been enough. Not nearly enough.

'_Come with me you're my insurance.'_

She had rushed his friend out of the room as he lay there desperately trying to stay awake and get up off of the floor in order to give chase. Greg had come and hadn't left him there unable to help. He had held Sherlock in his arms as he had lost consciousness. The Detective Inspector had also gotten him the medical aid he had needed and had gotten him home and into his own bed. He had watched over the flat the whole night as well, not that it had done any good.

Adler had come to him as he had lain there in his bed and had spoken to him, words that even now he had trouble remembering clearly. But aside from a few words, it was mostly just the impression of her visit that remained. But, she hadn't returned the most important thing… John.

'_Hush now. Don't worry. I'll take good care of him. It's okay. I'm only returning your coat.'_

He knew why he was so distraught over John being taken, how can he not. His heart had gotten involved with John. Unlike what many believed, love was not a total mystery to him. Just because he had never… he did understand the chemistry of it.

Like just a bit ago when he had touched John, oh how wonderful and terrifying a feeling. His pulse had been racing and he had felt like he wasn't getting enough air, all clear signs that he was attracted to his blogger. He would even go so far as to say that he was in love with the man, but he wasn't sure of that himself. This was new. Or maybe it wasn't. The panic he had felt when he had seen John strapped into a vest covered in Semtex back at that pool at the end of last March, and the even greater panic he had felt when the CIA operative had been about to kill John back in September… how could he have missed it. And yesterday at the petrol station…

He breathed out a sigh as he pulled his feet up and wrapped his arms around his legs. With a bit of effort he lifted his head and rested his chin on his knees.

Yesterday. Yesterday was dangerous. If Mycroft or Moriarty ever found out… but they didn't know where he was now. He let a soft smile lift his lips. He wasn't Sherlock Holmes any more now was he...

Mycroft was getting what he deserved. Let him spend the rest of his life worrying over what had become of his little brother and dealing with the fallout from Moriarty finding out that he was gone. What a happy Spring this was going to be. And maybe he would let his heart out to play now that he had the freedom to acknowledge it.

SH/JW

AH2: Regular update will go up as scheduled for Saturday... Cookies for all.


	15. Part 16

AN: Well here we are again. I can happily say that I am feeling much better after having kicked the cold that I had, not to mention that one of my friends made my week by getting me a very nice present. I always wanted a nice riding crop. I'll have to make sure that Sherlock's turns up in their new home at some point in the not too distant future... ;-) Thank you to all my lovely reviewers, readers, and everyone who has favorited and alerted this story. I love you all.

Disclaimer: I still don't own them... drat... but at least I can now say that the riding crop used in the story is really mine... lol.

SH/JW

The next two days passed by far more peaceably than Greg had anticipated. John and Sherlock seemed to have come to an understanding, though it was obvious that things still had quite a ways to go before a balance would be reached. But at least he had done all he could with the advice he had given. He was just looking forward to going home. He was going to ask his wife for a divorce and take some time to himself before asking Molly out. Sherlock was right about her liking him. The consulting detective didn't know it, but the outwardly shy mortician had given him a gift at Christmas, one that was quite different from the book that she had given Sherlock. He hadn't been expecting it of course, his own gift for her had been a cheap little table book of kittens. Frankly he was embarrassed about it now, no matter how she had gushed over it at the time. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the deceptively delicate looking chain that she had given him. It had a little pendant of a cat hanging from it and a small tag with her initials and his. She had told him that it didn't matter if he didn't wear it, she just had wanted him to have it in case he ever did.

Molly had seen so much more about him than his wife ever had. She was offering so much more too.

Undoing the clasp he brought it around his neck and tried to fasten it, just as John was entering the room.

'Do you need help?'

He nodded as he failed to get it clasped again. 'Yeah. This sodding clasp is just too small.' John held out a hand and motioned for him to bend down so he could reach. Falling to his knees Greg smiled up at his friend. 'Thanks.'

'Gift from your Dom?'

Greg nodded feeling a blush light up his cheeks. 'She gave it to me for Christmas. Left it up to me when I accepted it though. Finally decided to take her up on it.'

John's smile was bright as he helped Greg back to his feet. 'If you don't mind my asking…'

'Not my wife, no.' He let out a short laugh. 'Molly.'

John laughed. 'Really? Wow. Somehow I can see that though.' He nodded back towards the guest room's door. 'Sally's here. Sherlock and her are actually being civil for once. Thought the world might end there for a minute, but since it didn't I figured I'd come get you.'

'Thank you John. I'm going to miss you two.'

'It's not that far really. You can always come down on your off days. We'd love to have you. And be sure to tell your Mistress that we'd love to see her too.'

Greg nodded as he sighed. 'It'll be a bit before I bring Molly. Got to take care of the divorce first.'

His friend grimaced. 'Quite right. Well bring her when you can.'

'Don't tell Sherlock. He has a big enough head as it is.'

'You don't want an I-told-you-so, then.'

'No.'

John laughed again, before motioning for him to follow. They each grabbed one of his bags and headed down to where Sally and Sherlock were glaring at each other in the front room. Well, he figured, they weren't yelling yet.

'Well if you two are done staring each other down, I do have a shift tomorrow and need to get back home sometime tonight.'

'You have a shift on a Sunday?' John's voice was confused. 'I thought you didn't work Sunday's.'

He nodded, 'I do when my holiday ends on a Saturday.' He motioned to the front door. 'Let's get going Sally. You've got get me updated on the way back to town.'

'I do don't I.' Sally grinned as she took her attention away from Sherlock. 'I still need to tell you about the money problem don't I.'

He was happy when she then nodded to Sherlock and John and saw herself to the door. 'I'll see you two later. Stay out of trouble.' He pointed to Sherlock after he took his second bag from John. 'Remember we're going to find you a job here in a few weeks. I know a few people. All right?'

His friend nodded in agreement and walked him to the door. 'I'll talk to you soon. It had just better be interesting.'

'It will be.' He nodded to John. 'I'm off out. Call if you need anything.'

'Bye Greg.'

'Lestrade.'

With a hesitant step he made his way to the car and tossed his bags into the boot. With a last glance at the house he slid into the passenger seat and motioned for Sally to start off. He was going to miss those two. 'Good luck Sherlock, you're going to need it.'

'Sir?'

'Nothing Sally, just thinking out loud. Anyways tell me about how Holmes reacted to his brother's disappearance.'

'Well…'

SH/JW

AN2: Oh, and not to worry there is more SH/JW goodness coming and Mycroft wompage too... The next chapter is the longest one I've written yet, so look forward to it... and here's a tiny preview for you all...

_SH/JW _

_Part 17 Preview_

_His eyes opened long enough to see the adoring smile in John's eyes, before they slid shut again. 'Yes.' A breath went by, then two, and then three, an eternity before John's lips touched his own for the first time. Oh. His lips were soft, warm, and just a hint of the taste of dinner remained behind as John lifted his head and smiled down at him. He reached a hand up and pulled John's head back down by the lightest pressure on the back of his neck. This time he let his lips part slightly and pushed gently against the other man's mouth. He was rewarded when John's tongue slipped out and caressed his lips. His chest filled with warmth when his blogger gasped when he went a step farther and chased John's tongue back into his mouth. A few moments of this left the two gasping for breath._

_SH/JW_


	16. Part 17

AN: Okay folks here we are again and as previewed, this one is a bit steamy... and long. This is the longest chapter thus far at well over 2k words... Not to mention I think I just hit 15k when I was typing on it earlier. So as I think I promised this is turning into a very long story. All for the best I hope. So thank you to my readers, reviewers, and everyone who has favorited this or story alerted this. I love all of you and my day is always brightened when I see how many people like this. So hugs and cookies for all.

This chapter is dedicated to NivalKenival and MeredithRiddle. Thank you two for all of the wonderful reviews.

Disclaimer: I still don't own the boys... darn... still gonna play with them though... ;-)

SH/JW

It was quiet in the house now that Greg was gone, and Sherlock was taking the time to himself to think. John was off in the kitchen cleaning up the used dishes from the day. He seemed to be enjoying the domesticity of it, which Sherlock was glad of. It was nice to see his friend back doing something that he was familiar with. Even though they were not going to be doing more than part-time consulting for Greg now, it didn't do to forget the rest of the issues that they were going to be facing in their new lives. He himself was going to be finding some sort of employment outside of their new home, while John was going to stay in and… well he couldn't really call it convalescence really, as his blogger wasn't ill in any way, perhaps he would just call it recovery. He still hadn't had the opportunity to properly debrief John about his experiences at the hands of The Woman. He was still unclear about the sort of 'training' that she had put his John through… there he went again calling him 'his John'. He scowled up at the ceiling from his prone position on the sofa. He tapped his steepled fingers on his lips. That wouldn't do. John wasn't his property, he was his blogger. There was a twinge behind his breastbone at the thought of John not being his. Possessiveness, it was something he was familiar with at least, but this want was outside of his experience. He wanted John, not just as his blogger, but as whatever the other man wanted to give him.

There was a soft cough from the hallway entry, 'Sherlock? I'm done. Is there anything you need me for before I go up to bed?'

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, gathering his courage. But his hands still trembled as he sat up and looked to John. 'Yes there is actually.'

John's eyes widened slightly in surprise as he smiled softly, 'Did you want tea?'

Oh, bless the man for giving him an out and it was one he wanted, but he was ready for this. If they were ever going to move forwards, then he couldn't take that out. 'No.'

'Then what do you need? I'll get you anything you want.'

He braced himself and in a hesitant voice answered, 'You.' Oh. That wasn't so bad. John looked shocked, but he was still smiling. That was a good sign. Now he just needed to keep going. 'What happened the other day… can you… we…Can that happen again?' He let his eyes fall to the floor. He hadn't anticipated this being so difficult. Emotions were such a foreign thing to him, since he had spent such a long time denying them. But there, John was moving closer. He looked up to see that John was now standing an arms-length away, smiling with his hand outstretched.

'I will give you whatever you ask for Sherlock.'

Taking the chance he reached out and took his bloggers hand, letting the other man help him up. 'Now what?'

John chuckled, it wasn't mocking he could tell, it was just one that spoke of happiness. 'May I lead you?'

He nodded and clutching John's hand tighter, following as the other man moved away towards the stairs. At the first stair, John paused and asked softly if he were sure. 'Of course I am.' As they continued up the stairs John started to rub his thumb softly over Sherlock's knuckles. It was rather soothing, he found. He supposed that he was happy that it was John that he was going to explore this with. He didn't trust many people and even fewer with his health and happiness. John was his exception in everything.

Coming out at the top of the stairs, John paused in the hall just outside the door to his room. 'Where would you like to go from here Sherlock? My room or yours?'

Oh, he hadn't thought of that. 'Mine I suppose.'

'You'll probably be more comfortable there.'

'Yes.' Leave it to John to think of his comfort over his own.

A few more steps saw them in Sherlock's room, where the detective dropped his blogger's hand as he turned to shut the door behind them. Turning back he nearly lost his nerve again when he saw that John had taken off his jumper and was standing fully clothed otherwise, next to the bed.

'John?'

John motioned him closer and after he had complied, he sat him down on the edge of the bed. 'Don't worry Sherlock. You are in control here. I will only do what you want me too.'

He nearly jumped when the other man placed a steady hand on his chest over his heart. He knew that the doctor would be able to feel how it was pounding there in his ribcage. 'I trust you John.'

John's smile was bright as he knelt, his knees to either side of the detective's feet. 'May I take your shoes off Sherlock?'

He nodded as he watched the other man. He wasn't sure of this, but oh that felt nice. He had never had anyone touch his ankles like that before. John was rubbing small circles around the protruding bones as he unlaced the black shoes. With slow movements he lifted one foot and then the other, stripping each of first its shoe and then its matching sock. A rush of warmth spread up Sherlock's body as John started to gently message each foot.

'Is this okay Sherlock?'

His voice when he found it came out as barely more than a breath. 'Yes.'

Dark eyes were raised to meet his own, questioning if he wanted more. At his nod John stood, his hands rising to touch his jackets lapels. 'All right?'

He nodded again. His eyes falling closed as John's warm hands slid under the lapels and onto his shoulders. He shuddered as John slowly ran his hands down his arms, the jacket following along until it had entrapped his wrists by his sides. A quick motion on his part and the custom made article was on the floor and John's hands were back on his shoulders. John's fingers started to rub gentle circles along his collar bones and slowly moved up his neck. He let out a shuddering breath as John's fingers tangled themselves in his hair. A light tug and his head was pulled back exposing his throat to his blogger.

'May I kiss you Sherlock?'

His eyes opened long enough to see the adoring smile in John's eyes, before they slid shut again. 'Yes.' A breath went by, then two, and then three, an eternity before John's lips touched his own for the first time. Oh. His lips were soft, warm, and just a hint of the taste of dinner remained behind as John lifted his head and smiled down at him. He reached a hand up and pulled John's head back down by the lightest pressure on the back of his neck. This time he let his lips part slightly and pushed gently against the other man's mouth. He was rewarded when John's tongue slipped out and caressed his lips. His chest filled with warmth when his blogger gasped when he went a step farther and chased John's tongue back into his mouth. A few moments of this left the two gasping for breath.

'Shirt?'

'Yes John.'

Shaking hands moved from his neck to the buttons of his favorite purple shirt. Slowly John bent and started to undo them one by one, each punctuated with a kiss to his chest. His hand tightened on the other man's neck as John let his tongue flick out to taste his skin just above his belt.

'Shall I take my shirt off Sherlock?'

Sherlock could barely find the air to answer, but several gasps later he did. 'Oh, god yes.'

John was much quicker with his own shirt than he had been with Sherlock's, practically ripping the thing off in his haste to obey. But Sherlock was pleasantly surprised that he managed it without disturbing the hand on his neck. When his chest was fully exposed to Sherlock's eyes the doctor replaced his hands on the detective's waist. This led to him releasing a shuddering gasp. Oh, he felt like he was burning. Why had he ever been afraid of this? This was far better than he had ever anticipated, and they hadn't even finished unclothing themselves. 'John.'

John smiled up at him again, his hazel eyes hazy with lust. 'Yes?'

'Please.'

He nodded, his eyes never leaving Sherlock's as he slowly undid the soft leather belt and slid it from the loops. Shivers raced up the younger man's spine at the feel.

'John please.'

Nimble fingers undid the button and zip of his trousers and John's warm breath sent more shivers through his skin. 'Lie down and lift your hips my own.'

Releasing his hold on John's neck, he obeyed. He now rested splayed across the bed, his feet still resting on the floor. Caressing fingers slid his trousers and pants down exposing him fully to the other man. He let his hips rest back on the bed as each foot was lifted and the rest of his garments joined his jacket on the floor.

'You are so beautiful Sherlock.'

He looked down to see John resting his hands on either side of his hips, a blissful smile just barely lifting the corners of his mouth. 'John.' His voice was just a whisper, giving his blogger permission to do to him whatever he liked.

With a soft touch John's hand caressed him from knee to hip, before coming to rest with firm pressure on his waist. 'Are you sure Sherlock? What do you want me to do?'

'What?' He was asking for permission to what? 'I'm sure, just do it John.'

'Do what Sherlock?' John's voice was teasing as he leaned his head down and blew air onto Sherlock.

Sherlock could only groan. Oh that felt good.

'Do you want me to lick it Sherlock?' He asked as he proceeded to do just that.

His eyes rolled back at the feel of John's tongue on him there. He really was licking it, treating it like it was his favorite type of lolly. Fire burst through his veins as John's lips surrounded the head and applied pressure. 'Oh god. John.'

His blogger proceeded to take more of him into his mouth and then he hummed.

Sherlock, just about shot off the bed, it was good thing that John was holding his hips down at this point, because all he wanted to do was thrust farther into that warm wet heat that was his friends mouth.

He moaned deeply when John's mouth left him with a pop. 'Do you want more Sherlock?'

'More?' He just wanted John to keep doing what he had been, more would surely kill him. His eyes were hazy as he looked at where John was now standing, his hands undoing his own trousers.

'Do you want to be in me Sherlock?'

Oh, god. In him? That was more than he had… but… 'Oh, yes John.'

The now naked doctor motioned for him to move farther up onto the bed. When he had complied the older man crawled up over him. 'Shall I ride you Sherlock? Would you like that?'

'Yes.'

John's smile seemed to make his heart skip a beat and then the blogger picked up a small bottle. 'This will make things easier.'

Lubricant, the analytical part of his mind supplied, the rest of him just shuddered in pleasure at the thought of being in John.

After he had poured out a liberal amount, John ran slick fingers up Sherlock's shaft and had him once again moaning uncontrollably. A few moments later he stopped and shifted so that he was now kneeling over Sherlock. 'Ready my own?'

Sherlock had no words at this point, so he reached up and rested his hands on John's hips.

Slowly John lowered himself onto Sherlock. All the detective could do was groan. Oh, so warm. John was tight, but not so tight that Sherlock would harm him, he could tell. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. This was… oh… And then John tightened his muscles and Sherlock was lost. He had never believed the stories that people told of seeing stars during orgasm, but now he definitely did. There were stars and such a flood of warmth that he must have blacked out for a moment, because he roused at the feel of wet warmth pulsing onto his stomach.

He looked up to see John's head throw back, his mouth wide in a gasp. He imagined that he had not looked all that dissimilar himself a moment earlier. So this is what all that fuss was about.

John's head came down after a moment and he met Sherlock's half-open eyes with his own well sated ones. 'So?'

Sherlock nodded with a smile, he did not trust his voice. At John lifting himself off of Sherlock, he gasped at the loss of that warmth. But he was gratified when John didn't go any farther than his side. Rolling to his side he faced his blogger and sleepily kissed him. 'Stay.'

'Of course. Sleep Sherlock. We can clean up in the morning.'

He let out a lethargic groan of agreement, before he allowed himself to give in to satiated exhaustion. He only just registered that John had pulled the duvet over them before he was lost to sleep.

SH/JW

Preview for Part 18

_Guilt was a foreign feeling for Mycroft, but it was an emotion that rarely he did feel. He certainly felt it today standing before the door of 221 Baker Street. He had spent the last three days searching for his wayward little brother, only to find that he was nowhere to be found. He had not gone to any of his usual haunts and none of his old dealers would even speak of him. Sherlock's homeless network was just as tightlipped. It seemed as if all of them had heard of the part that he had played in Doctor Watson's extended absence. He had even asked Inspector Lestrade about it, but he was just as clueless as he was. It turns out that he hadn't even known that Sherlock was missing. Lestrade had spent his entire holiday helping get his cousin settled into a new house._

_Useless._


	17. Part 18

AN: Hello again to all my lovely readers, I've got another chapter for you all. I know that it was supposed to be out last weekend, but sadly I ended up sick all week. All better now, so here for you all is the chapter I promised. Part 19 should be out on schedule next Saturday. Love and cookies for you all.

Disclaimer: Still don't own, but it is on my christmas list... well one can always hope right. :-)

SH/JW

Guilt was a foreign feeling for Mycroft, but it was an emotion that rarely he did feel. He certainly felt it today standing before the door of 221 Baker Street. He had spent the last three days searching for his wayward little brother, only to find that he was nowhere to be found. He had not gone to any of his usual haunts and none of his old dealers would even speak of him. Sherlock's homeless network was just as tightlipped. It seemed as if all of them had heard of the part that he had played in Doctor Watson's extended absence. He had even asked Inspector Lestrade about it, but he was just as clueless as he was. It turns out that he hadn't even known that Sherlock was missing. Lestrade had spent his entire holiday helping get his cousin settled into a new house.

Useless.

He had always lectured Sherlock on the disadvantages of sentiment and now here he was giving in to his own regarding his brother. He cared for him, of course he did, and Sherlock was his one weakness after all.

'Well are you going to come in, or are you just going to stand out here all night?'

Mrs. Hudson's voice startled him out of his thoughts. She had apparently just arrived back from Tesco's, if her shopping bags were any indication. Her door key was in her hand and she had a rather sympathetic smile on her face. 'Of course, I do intend to come in Mrs. Hudson.'

'Well good then. It's good to see one of you boys. Lord knows I hardly see Sherlock anymore since John was kidnapped. That poor boy is Sherlock's only real friend you know.' She opened the door and kept up her monologue as he followed her in and then up to 221B. 'I don't know about those police friends of his though. They came through here a couple of days ago making such a racket. Oh and the mess that they left. I can't do anything about it mind you, what with my hip.' She unlocked the door to Sherlock's flat and motioned him in. 'I'll just go set these down dear. Have a look around. I'll be back in a minute.'

'Thank you Mrs. Hudson.'

Mycroft waited until the elderly landlady was back in her flat before he opened the door and stepped in, only to stop dead in shock. Sherlock's sitting room was in shambles. The sofa and both chairs were gone and the table was bare. The headphones wearing skull was still in its place on the wall, but the human one from the mantle was missing. There were papers strewn across the floor and multiple books were gone from the bookcases.

He couldn't even bring himself to react when Mrs. Hudson laid a hand on his arm upon her return.

'Oh those nasty police taking his things. I just knew they were going to be trouble. That one dark haired fellow that Sherlock dislikes so much was positively grinning when they came to search the flat. I went out so that I wouldn't hear them. They do make so much noise, at my time of life, it's just too much. I looked it over after they had left of course. They took all of his experiments. I don't know why they took the rest. It's just not decent the things they do to Sherlock. I don't think the poor dear feels safe here anymore, what with John being gone. Family is all we have left in the end Mycroft Holmes, and it was a wicked thing you did to your brother not helping him get his partner back. It's no wonder he wouldn't go to you for anything after the police started to bother him again.'

Mycroft had to bit his tongue to keep from yelling at her. Every word was a dagger. It was his fault, all of it. Why hadn't he just taken care of Sherlock when he had had the chance? It had seemed so simple at the time. 'I'd like to be alone if you don't mind Mrs. Hudson.'

'Of course. Just let me know if you'd like some tea later.'

'Thank you.' After she left, he propped his umbrella against the wall and sank to his knees. Picking up one page after another, he tried desperately not to start crying. He had done this and he would fix it, even if it took the rest of his life, he owed Sherlock and John that much at least.

SH/JW


	18. Part 19

AN: Alrighty here is Part 19 with a little twist. Things are going to be getting interesting for the boys soon, so please stick with me for it. Thank you to all my readers and reviewers.

Disclaimer: Still don't own...

SH/JW

Moriarty.

The name alone was enough to give Irene chills. She had had no real idea of just how truly insane he was until he had gotten a hold of one of her associates. It turned her stomach to think of what that creepy little Irishman had done to the poor girl. And now he was after her. She had kept Sherlock occupied and had given him the information he had needed to harass the elder Holmes brother, just like they had agreed upon. But none of that seemed to matter now.

Apparently there was a problem that had cropped up that none of them had foreseen. It seems that Sherlock Holmes had disappeared off the face of the Earth and no one could find him, not even Moriarty or big brother Holmes.

Fortunately for her and her skin, he was just angry with her and his current wrath was focused on the assassins that he had hired to keep an eye on Sherlock. Irene didn't expect any of them would survive the tender treatment that Moriarty was sure to give them. She would not survive long herself if she didn't find a way to vanish. It was most auspicious for her that she had had the foresight to set up a way to send an emergency message to John Watson.

Sherlock's dear Doctor Watson was such a kind man that she just knew that he would help her. Firing off a quick text, she curled up in the aging arm chair that sat in the corner of the rooms that she was currently occupying in Oxford. It didn't take long for a reply to come through. Just a number for her to call, but it was ever so happily received.

Quickly imputing the numbers she was pleased when the phone was picked up on the first ring and answered with a very familiar voice.

'Yes?'

She let out the breath that she hadn't realized that she had been holding. 'Thank God you answered. I need your assistance.'

'You know I will help however I can, however you need to be ready to do penance.'

'I imagine that _he_ is most displeased with my past behavior. I will do whatever penance is required of me in order that I might make peace with him.'

'My husband will appreciate that sister-dear.'

She smiled with a sigh of relief. John was going to help her, she was just going to have to beg Sherlock's forgiveness and earn it as well. She would do whatever he asks of her as long as he can help keep her safely alive. 'Sister? Is that to be who I am from now on?'

His voice was hard when he answered, 'If you want my help… then yes.'

'I understand.'

'What is the danger that you are in? I need to know what to expect. He's not here now, but what I am to tell my husband when he asks why you are suddenly here when he returns?'

Irene tried desperately to keep her voice steady and clear of the fear that she felt. John was already worried for her and she knew what she was going to tell him would only make that worse. 'A certain Irish gentleman with whom we are all familiar is causing trouble for me. I rather fear that harm will befall me should I not seek help. You and your darling husband are the only ones I could trust enough to keep me safe from him as he does tend to get a trifle violent from time to time.'

John's hummed in agreement. He knew well of whom she was speaking, given what the mad man had done to him. He had told her all about how Moriarty had kidnapped him and strapped him into a Semtex covered vest months before they met. 'Do what you need to disappear, preferably in an apparently mortal fashion. Then Serenity MacDougal, you get a new phone, text me again and I will get you directions to the house.'

'Thank you. You are too good to me.'

'I am doing what must be done to keep my family safe.' He paused for a moment. 'That includes you now too Serenity.'

She knew a few people, well knew what they like anyways. Shouldn't be too hard to fake her own death. Getting a new phone wasn't a problem either. None of it was really, especially since John had given her the information that she needed to craft a new identity and find him. In just a few days, Irene Adler would be no more and Serenity MacDougal would come out of hiding to join her brother and his husband. It didn't matter how she ended up with them, it just mattered to her that John actually cared enough to help her regardless of their history. 'I am beyond thankful that that you would do this for me. I don't know what to say, other than thank you.'

He snorted, and then spoke with a bitter tone. 'You had better figure something out, because my own will not be nearly so kind to you as I. I gave into your teachings because it was what I needed to do to get back to him. Just because I enjoyed what I learned does not mean that I have easily forgiven how you went about keeping me. My own will not forgive you. He will accept your usefulness, but do not expect forgiveness from him.'

She was disappointed, who wouldn't be, but she understood. Sherlock Holmes was a hard man. When they had first met, he hadn't even looked at her twice. All of his concern at the time was focused on the game and then on the safety of his beloved John. She could see the appeal. John was a singular individual. He was kind where many others were hard, not to mention loyal for life to those he had deemed worthy. Would that she swung that way for anything but business, she would have kept him for herself. But she didn't and so had happily handed him back to his Sherlock when his training was done. 'I will do what I must to earn his respect at the least. Even if I am never forgiven by him, I will still try.'

'Iain.'

'Pardon?'

He laughed at her confusion. 'My name is Iain sister. I don't suggest you forget.' He paused for a moment before he continued. 'Be here in two days. My husband is due back in three. I expect to hear everything.'

'I understand. I'll contact you in two days for directions.'

'Good luck.'

With that the mobile beeped that the connection had ended. Pulling it from her ear, she started to input a different set of numbers. It was best that she start setting things in motion, so that she could keep her appointment with John in two days. She had a lot to do and barely any time to do it.

Several hours later she received the call that her papers were ready and that a suitable replacement body had been found. Soon she would be on her way to join the two boys. Soon Irene Adler would be dead.

SH/JW


	19. Part 20

AN: Welcome to Part 20 everyone. I hope you enjoy. Thank you to all my readers and reviewers. I do have a bit of news... I will be taking a two month hiatus so that I can work on my novel during Camp Nanowrimo in June. Wish me luck finishing it. I'm hoping to publish early fall this year. I'll see you all again with Part 21 in July.

Love and Cookies to all.

Disclaimer: I still don't own.

SH/JW

'Have you been reading that website _The Science of Deduction_?'

'Bluebell, Greg! Bluebell teneo, scilicet, in-de tenebris lumen evanecens leporis. NATO suus in tumultus.'

Greg rolled his eyes, leave it to his friend to answer him in Latin when bored. He had brought Sherlock along with him to investigate the supposed hell-hound haunting Dartmoor. Trust Mycroft Holmes to use a poor disturbed man's delusions to try to flush out Sherlock. All he'd get of course was he and his cousin meeting with another cousin, while he interviewed Henry Knight on the side. 'Heddwyn, next time please just answer in English. You know I don't speak Latin.'

'Hebes.'

He rolled his eyes, well if Sherlock wanted to act like a child, so be it. 'Yes well, Mister Holmes sent me out here for a reason. We're here not just because you have an interview with Cousin Josephine, you know.'

'Holmes est asinum.'

Greg couldn't help but laugh. He had a good idea of what that had meant. Any chance to insult Mycroft after all. 'And how does Iain feel about you coming up here with me? Will he be all right by himself?'

'Iain satis est ut bona subiectis domi manere debet. Clamabit ad me, si quaestio est domi. Erit denique solus.'

A female laugh drew the attention of both men to a dark haired woman standing just inside the pub's entrance.

'Josephine.' Greg was happy to see his cousin. She was as elegant as ever. Three years younger than him and still as stunning as she had been when they were teens. Her long dark hair was pulled back into a fashionable twist to compliment her black Armani suit.

'Gregory. How wonderful to see you again.' She placed both hands on his shoulders and kissed both of his cheeks in the French style. 'And Cousin Heddwyn. How delightful to see you again after so many years.'

'Indeed. We were both quite young the last time we met.' Sherlock took her hand and kissed her fingertips. 'You are as lovely as ever.'

'Flatterer.' She sat in the chair that Sherlock pulled out for her and turned her attention back to Greg. 'So you mentioned that Heddwyn needed a bit of work? How can I help?'

Greg motioned to Sherlock and smiled nervously. 'Well as I'm sure you noticed he has good voice. I know that you are a producer, so I thought…'

She smiled knowingly. 'Ah. You are right I did notice.' She turned to Sherlock, her expression turning serious. 'So Heddwyn did Gregory tell you about what exactly I do, or did he neglect that?'

Greg smirked inwardly as Sherlock's eyes narrowed. He very deliberately didn't tell his friend anything about Josephine, because he well knew that the now retired detective would want to discover her for himself.

'Well what I know about you is that you are happily married with two, no, three children. The eldest is in sixth form and nearly ready to graduate and the youngest is still in primary. You are a producer in the audio book industry, rather than one of the more lucrative talent fields. You prefer actually getting to know your talent. Interesting.' He paused for a moment as he considered her. 'And you are pleased with my voice and will most likely hire me, provided I read well of course.'

Josephine laughed, delighted with her new cousin. 'You are right Gregory, he is fantastic.' She pulled a Blackberry™ out of her pocket and a small book out of her purse. A few quick motions and the book was open before Sherlock and the Blackberry was recording.

"Tell the Truth but tell it Slant -  
>Success in Circuit lies<br>Too bright for our infirm Delight  
>The Truth's superb surprise<p>

As Lightening to the Children eased  
>With explanation kind<br>The Truth must dazzle gradually  
>Or every man be blind-<p>

Emily Dickenson."

Josephine looked as though she could not be more pleased. Sherlock was apparently everything that she had been looking for. This made Greg very happy. It would make John happy too to find out that Sherlock had impressed his cousin and had actually managed to not make an ass out of himself.

'Well, Heddwyn I can definitely say that I can use a voice like yours.' She handed him a pair of business cards. 'One of those is mine and the other belongs to a very good manager. With a voice like yours, you're going to need him.'

'Josephine Brook and William McLean.'

'He prefers Bill, but he's one of the best. Honest too. He'll be able to get you a good contract and help find other voice work whenever you are interested in expanding your résumé.' She cleared her throat. 'Though I do have a question for you.'

'Yes?'

'Now please don't take this wrong, but some voice actors refuse to use anything but their real names. I was wondering if there was a name we could use for you, just professionally mind you, such as your middle name, or a name you just like?'

Sherlock looked to Greg confusion etched on his face. Greg shrugged. He had no answer for him really, but it would help add another layer of protection for his friend if his professional name was different. 'Well your middle name is Benedict isn't it? What about that?'

Sherlock's eyebrows drew together for a moment before he relaxed and smiled. 'That could work.' He looked at Josephine again. 'How about I just go by Benedict Lestrade?'

She smiled at both of them and nodded. 'Simple enough. Welcome to Luna Audio Benedict Lestrade, I look forward to working with you.

SH/JW

Translations for the Latin...

Bluebell Greg. I've got Bluebell, the case of the vanishing glow-in-the-dark rabbit. NATO's in an uproar.

Dull.

Holmes is an ass.

Iain is quite content to remain at home like a good submissive should. He will call me if there is a problem at home. He will be fine alone.


End file.
